Uncertain Promises
by nillabonbons
Summary: A short GamKar oneshot about Gamzee's sober side. Some language.


Karkat looked up from his bloody hand, staring at Gamzee in utter disbelief. His cheek was dripping with blood. The taller troll had suddenly backhanded him after a small disagreement between them. His jagged, untrimmed fingernails had scraped across Karkat's cheek, right under his right eye.

Gamzee, sneering, looked down at his nails, which now had Karkat's candy red blood on them. His expression was a disgusted one, and he quickly wiped his hand off on his pants as if it had dirt on it. Karkat's disbelief quickly boiled into anger at his sober friend, but remained quiet, in case he got hurt any more.

Gamzee spat out more profanity-riddled, degrading insults at the red-blooded troll before stomping off out the door.

* * *

This sort of thing happened often when Gamzee was sober, but it rarely ended with someone getting hurt. Gamzee was in an even worse mood than usual. There was some hatred behind that slap.

Karkat fought back tears as he cleaned the scrape on his cheek, and not because it hurt. He bandaged the cut, wiped away tears, then sat down on the couch in front of the TV. He watched his favorite romcom intently, but ended up sobbing even more. The movie wasn't helping the feeling of deep sadness he felt after his moirail stormed off. He wrapped a blanket around himself and eventually fell asleep, cuddled into the couch, his face stained red with tears.

* * *

Karkat's eyes fluttered open as he felt a soft touch on the bandage he put on his cheek. Gamzee's face was only inches away from Karkat's his eyes trained on the bandage he was stroking.

"Shit," he said, "Did I do that?" His breath reeked of a medicinal-smelling substance, hinting he was back to his usual high self. Still, Karkat was cautious.

"Get your hands off of me, you high fuck," Karkat growled, still groggy. Hesitating, Gamzee took his hand off of Karkat's face. "You're not mad, are you, Karbro?" Gamzee asked, genuinely concerned.

Karkat thought for a moment. Maybe if he told Gamzee he was mad, he would leave. Karkat shook his head anyway, and nuzzled deeper into his blanket, still invitingly warm.

"Good," Gamzee said, laughing. "If you were still mad, I don't know what I would've done with this motherfuckin' pie!" He lifted a pie tin, filled to the brim with the neon sludge. "Get that slop out of my face!" Karkat hissed at the clown.

Shaking his head, Gamzee put the pie on the table behind him and got up. Karkat watched, confused, but then started protesting as Gamzee unraveled Karkat from his cocoon, lay down, then wrapped it around both of them.

Karkat noticed that Gamzee was even warmer than the thick blanket he had around him. Without thinking, Karkat scooted closer to his moirail, which made Gamzee crack a lazy smile. Karkat went to grumble about their position, but then he closed his mouth. Although he'd never admit it, deep down he enjoyed being so close.

"I'm going back to sleep…" Karkat mumbled, nestling his head in Gamzee's chest, letting the warmth of his moirail and the ever so calming heartbeat that matched his own lull him to sleep. Karkat felt Gamzee's reverberate in his chest as he spoke.

"I don't like my sober self," he confessed, grasping the edge of the blanket. "I hate it when I'm back to my normal self and see what my sober motherfuckin' self did to you." He paused.

Gamzee took a deep breath, filling the silence between them both.

"I hate how I really am. I despise the purple blood up in my veins. I don't mean it, those things I say to you."

But Karkat knew he actually meant them. His "normal" self was his destructive, sober self. It was always masked by his other happy, lazy, high personality. Hidden, but still always present. Karkat said nothing, but reached for Gamzee's arm under the blanket. He wrapped Gamzee's arm around his waist, then shifted until they were face to face. Karkat touched his forehead to his moirail's and looked into his hazy eyes.

"You know I'll never leave you. You're my best friend," he said in a low voice. "Besides, everyone would be dead if it weren't for me," he smirked. Still, Karkat wished he were a better moirail. He wondered if this whole ordeal would have happened if he had stayed by Gamzee's side.

Gamzee chuckled, then let his gaze rest on the bandage on his cheek. He lifted his free hand and touched it once again. "I'm so motherfuckin' sorry I did that to you, bro. I'll try to control myself next time."

Karkat grinned slightly and took Gamzee's hand in his own, putting them against their chests. Their fingers interlaced almost awkwardly, as Gamzee's hands were huge against Karkat's. Karkat softly pushed Gamzee's palm to his and silently enjoyed the warmth pressing into his own. "I know you will," he said softly.

With a sudden pang, Karkat couldn't help but to think that Gamzee's promise to be controlled would be broken. His sober personality was completely unpredictable, and Karkat always felt vulnerable when he wasn't high.

He constantly questioned how his gentle, cheerful friend could house such a murderous nature that only few saw.


End file.
